


Advance and Retreat

by escritoireazul



Category: Avengers Grimm (2015)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Fight Training, Gen, Pre-Crush, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:45:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escritoireazul/pseuds/escritoireazul
Summary: Beauty's magic fails her sometimes. Snow thinks it's high time she learned to fight. Red's the one given the job.No one is happy about this.





	Advance and Retreat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> A few years ago, I watched Avengers Grimm for the first time and fell in love with it and how cheesy and wonderful and adventurous it is. I was thrilled to see your prompts this year.

Sleeping Beauty stuck out her lower lip in an epic pout. It wasn’t doing her any good, though. Red simply smirked at her, spinning a knife around her fingers. Insolent commoner.

But they weren’t royalty here, and Red no commoner.

“Snow hates me,” Beauty said. “That’s what this is. She’s mad my magical sleep is more interesting than her glass coffin death.”

Red rolled her eyes. “You’re both boring.”

Beauty crossed her arms over her chest and arched one brow. She had that skeptical look down pat these days. “And a little girl chasing a big bad wolf is interesting, is it?”

“Little girl can kick your butt.” Red smiled, showing her teeth. “That’s interesting.”

Beauty lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers at Red. “Before I put you to sleep?” she asked.

Sour disappointment slid across Red’s expression, and Beauty tipped back her head, laughing too loud. Red scowled at her through it; by the time Beauty was done, she was breathless with it, and warm all over, and her grumpiness gone.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said. “Snow won’t stop pestering us if we don’t.”

Red nodded. She no longer wore her skirts and long red cloak; she, too, had donned clothes designed to fit into this world, picked out by Cinderella: dark red pants, black leather boots, and a soft gray shirt that left one shoulder bare and gave her room to move.

It was a good look. Beauty would never tell her that.

Red handed her a knife. It was heavy, the handle ornate, the blade sharp.

“Seems like a bad idea to use something that could actually hurt you,” Beauty said.

“As if you could hurt me.” Red touched the edge of the knife she’d kept for herself. A drop of blood appeared at the tip of her finger. “What good is a dull blade?”

Beauty eyed the one she held. “Less likely to end with me scarred, for one thing.”

“And marking that perfect skin would truly be a tragedy of epic proportions.” Red spun her knife across her fingers again then took a step closer. “Hold it like this,” she said. She carried the knife low to her side, nearly at her hip, and had her fingers loosely wrapped around the hilt, the blade pointed toward the ground. “You can come out of this in a few directions.” She twisted it against her palm and suddenly the blade faced to the back and she slammed her hand backward, driving it up.

Beauty’s chin dropped before she realized what she was doing and snapped her mouth shut.

“I have no idea what you just did,” she said. It was hard to admit, but she wanted to know. It had been a sleek move, and subtle. She could see how it would be useful. Men underestimated her. This could put play to that.

Red didn’t mock her, just brought her hand back to her side and the knife back to center. “Hold it loose,” she said. “Then choose which way you will stab.” She shifted the knife, nearly dropped it. “Hard to do slowly.”

She tried again, but the movement was still too fast for Beauty to follow. She caught the tip of her finger on the edge when she tried and the knife clattered to the ground.

“Damn it,” she grumbled and stuck the tip of her finger in her mouth.

Red raised her eyebrows. “Not very princess-like,” she said.

“Neither’s stabbing myself with a knife!” Beauty snapped.

“True enough.” Red eyed her a moment. “This was a bad place to start. We’ll put a sheath at your hip and work on ways to draw it. Pick up your knife.”

Beauty wanted to stick out her tongue but refrained. Instead, she ducked to grab the knife and then stood in front of Red, waiting.

Red came closer, until they were less than a foot apart. “We’ll work on this first,” she said. “Until we get a sheath fitted to you.” She held her knife at her hip again, blade pointed toward Beauty. “I’m going to thrust this toward your right shoulder. When I do, turn to the side and drop your shoulder back.” Red demonstrated. “If you can, after, try to stab me.”

Beauty blanched. “What if I don’t want to stab you?”

Red barked a laugh. “I know that’s a lie.”

“Most of the time,” Beauty clarified. “Most of the time I don’t want to stab you.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Princess.”

“Still not a princess anymore.”

“Still doesn’t change anything,” Red popped back. “Stab at me, Princess. I promise you won’t manage to hit me.”

Beauty narrowed her eyes and shifted her feet a little wider for better balance. She was starting to want to stab Red _now_.

“We’ll try it slow the first couple times,” Red told her.

True to her word, Red moved through it slowly: she brought her hand up from her hip, twisting it a little as she did. Her motion was controlled enough, slow enough, that Beauty could not only follow it but remember how she was supposed to react. She twisted to the left, dropping her right shoulder as she did. Red’s arm crossed her chest, but the knife pushed into the air where her shoulder had been but was now gone.

“This opens my side to you.” Red held the position. “You can lean into me now and stick your knife into my stomach.”

Beauty moved just as slowly as Red did, but immediately, Red stopped her. “Really try,” she said. “Put your weight into it.”

“I really don’t want to stab you,” Beauty said. “Snow’ll be upset if I do.”

“Doubt that.” Red snorted. “Besides, I told you, there’s no way you’ll manage to hit me.”

“Fine!” Beauty thrust forward as fast as she could, pushing the knife at Red’s stomach. Red dodged to the side, her body bending fast, but when she moved her own knife, she was slow again, careful. Beauty had plenty of time to see Red draw her arm back. The only thing fast was the way she spun the knife so that the blade pointed back into Beauty, aimed to drive straight into her throat.

“Step back,” Red ordered. Beauty followed the command without thinking about it, and Red’s knife slid through the air in front of where she’d been. “Good.”

That small bit of praise made Beauty happier than she liked.

“Now what?” Beauty asked.

“Now I keep trying to stab you, and you get out of my way. See what you can do without me telling you how to move.” Red sounded skeptical.

That was fine. This might not be Beauty’s favorite thing, or even something she was really good at, but she could do enough to wipe that doubt out of Red’s tone.

Red took a step back then came at her again, no warning this time. Her movements were still slow and controlled.

Beauty watched close and caught the tightening of her arm before she thrust the knife forward. Beauty jumped back, then took a step to the side, stabbing her knife toward Red’s outstretched arm. For a second, she thought she’d catch at least a bit of Red’s bare skin, but Red moved in the next breath and came back at her.

Red punched with her left hand, forcing Beauty to twist to the right to get out of the way. Red advanced, Beauty slid back. Beauty stabbed forward, Red moved to the side.

“It’s like a dance,” Beauty said. She was surprised to find her heart pounding and her breath quick.

A slow smile broke across Red’s face. It transformed her from a grumpy fighter into a very pretty grumpy fighter, and the change caught Beauty off guard.

Off guard enough that the tip of Red’s knife pushed into her forearm before Red jerked back. Beauty hadn’t even noticed that she was advancing again, even though Red was as careful as ever.

“Damn it, Princess, pay attention.”

Beauty shook her head. Red’s knife was sharp, and it took a moment for the pain to set in. When it did, the sting of it made her tear up a little.

“Sorry,” she said. Red’s mouth opened a little, and her eyebrows drew down. Beauty was as surprised by the apology as Red was. “And don’t call me Princess!”

That put both of them back to normal footing.

“Do you want to stop?” Red asked. Her tone was flat. No matter. Beauty knew it was a challenge nonetheless.

Her arm did hurt, especially when she made a fist, but she held her knife with her other hand, and she was damn sure not going to give up.

Beauty straightened her shoulders and squared off toward Red. “Do that again,” she said. “I’ll dodge it this time.”

Red’s second real smile was just as bright and fast as the first, but Beauty forced herself to ignore it this time.

“It is a dance.” Red took a step forward. Beauty stepped back. “I move, you move. You move, I move. There’s a rhythm to a fight.”

“I prefer my dances with music,” Beauty said. Teased. Flirted, maybe. She wasn’t certain anymore. “And less blood.”

“It’s no fun without a little pain.” Red’s eyes shone.

Beauty laughed. “Then you’re doing it wrong, princess.”

The look on Red’s face was more than worth the twist in her throat that followed calling a commoner a princess. She had been right earlier; there was no royalty here, and no commoners.

Then Red smiled wider still. “You’re going to wish you didn’t call me that,” she said and moved toward her.

Beauty brought up her knife and focused on Red’s body, waiting to see if there was a twitch that would give away her next move. Even if there was, Beauty probably wouldn’t catch it, but she could try.

Snow and Red were right, after all. She needed to be better at hand-to-hand fighting, just in case her magic failed. And Snow’d had a good idea. Red was by far the best of them, and she wouldn’t go easy on Beauty, not the way Cinderella might have.

And now that she’d noticed Red’s beauty, it was impossible not to see it.

Beauty stepped into Red’s reach, bringing one arm up as if she was going to grab her hand and spin. It pushed Red’s knife aside and let Beauty thrust her knife toward Red’s chest. Red caught it easily, but gave a short nod.

“Good instinct,” she said. “Try it again.”

Beauty knew how to dance. She knew how to watch people to see what they would do next. She could apply those things here, too. And if Red annoyed her too much, maybe she’d put her to sleep -- or perhaps she’d kiss her. See what she would do.

“Come on, Princess. You were doing almost okay there for a minute. Don’t go all royal on me now.”

Beauty laughed and brought up her knife. She'd show Red royal. She could be a royal pain in Red's ass.


End file.
